


Pair Bonded, Tied Together

by Grimmy88



Series: Pair Bonded, Tied Together [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Omega, M/M, Other, Werewolf Biology, Werewolf Sex, beast you've been warned!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 02:16:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimmy88/pseuds/Grimmy88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For this request on the hobbit kinkmeme by fili_kili:</p><p>"During the quest at some point Thorin has already claimed Bilbo as his mate but for whatever reason during one cycle Thorin transforms and Bilbo doesn't but that doesn't change the fact that Thorin is an Alpha in rut and he's determined to have Bilbo"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pair Bonded, Tied Together

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for this fandom so I hope you all enjoy it. I've taken actual wolf mating behaviors and incorporated them into this story. All mistakes are my own. Thanks for reading! (Sorry for the lame title.)
> 
> Edit: I attempted to emulate Tolkien's style as far as I could (it gets a little rough when you get to the more sexy parts, haha). I enjoy writing requests for this pairing, or maybe continue this as a series, if I get ideas from others because I prefer to write my fanfiction for others ^_^

     Thorin, after giving an undignified snort, curled his body around Bilbo who was still very much a plain hobbit. Each member of the company, with the exception of their wizard whom had already left them at the forest’s edge, had transformed into their bestial forms for their cycle.

     It had been a welcome and anticipated change, one that was scheduled meticulously (as much as one could schedule such things) so that their monthly primal forms did not cause them to encroach upon their host’s land. Bilbo figured there very well may have been hesitancy to change in the presence of one who donned the shape of a bear instead of the wolfen forms to which they were accustomed, as well. Their second objective had been to ensure their cycle did not encumber their trip through Mirkwood.

     Balin’s planning had guided them well once again, well, except that none of them had anticipated that one of their ranks would be late with his cycle. At least this was what Bilbo believed to be the question behind the curious head tilts he was receiving even after an hour of remaining in his hobbit suit, as it were.

     A rather offensive growl (aimed at poor Ori for heaven’s sake!) tore forth from Thorin’s muzzle and it effectively sent all the other wolves barely even close to their vicinity sprawling to get away.

     “Really, Thorin,” he admonished. Only their younger members had been curious, or perhaps foolish, enough to approach in the first place. Had Bilbo been transformed, yes, the growling would’ve been warranted but as he was there were no real threats to Thorin’s claim.

     The dwarf king had made this claim on Bilbo fairly early in their quest. Rather, that’s what the hobbit had been informed unceremoniously by his nephews when they had reached safe haven in Rivendell. It explained all his terse sentences and tense behavior, they had claimed.

     “Hadn’t you noticed?”

     Bilbo had been quite ready to defend himself against the incredulity in their voices but had just as quickly taken to quietly fuming to himself instead. He’d learned from their first night in each other’s company that some things, especially the differences between their cultures, were not worth the effort (their heads proved much too thick most times, after all) nor were the worth the possibility of ensuing arguments.

     Hobbits were never quite so animalistic about their relations. Bilbo was an omega but never had any of the alphas who’d pursued him acted with the condescension granted to him by the dwarrow leader. It had been frustrating to the Halfling that Thorin’s actions, though harsh, were justified in the minds of his comrades and yet left unexplained so that he’d been convinced of nothing but the king’s dismissal since the moment he’d caught up with their ponies.

     True, the aloofness and anger had been a constant against all of them but it hadn’t been clear that it was a sign of Thorin’s possessiveness nor a display of his dominance because, again, no hobbit had ever done the same.

     Nonetheless Bilbo hadn’t denied him and the first time they’d changed had been their first time coupling. Hurt as his feelings had been the hobbit had never denied his attraction to the alpha. Coupling during a cycle was the norm what with the screaming of their instincts, after all. It was hardly a marriage contract and Bilbo (and his race in general) were nothing if not simple creatures in love with life’s pleasures.

     After that Thorin’s anger changed more abruptly and burned more deeply for all new reasons. A dwarrow was a possessive creature on its own but when one was both an alpha and a king as well Bilbo supposed that particular attribute was sharply intensified.

     It hadn’t been until recently, after Bilbo had escaped sun-forgotten caves with a ring of gold and then thrown himself to his king’s aid (as if it had been a choice to ignore the screaming within his chest) that what was between them stopped being simple.

     When the severity of his wounds had gone and they were safe in Beorn’s hall they laid together again, as hobbit and dwarrow. Lovemaking though it was to Bilbo (and a large leap on the road to marriage in his culture) he hadn’t questioned any of it further.

     Even now no specifications had been passed between them. Instead Bilbo had contented himself with remaining close to his new mate and stealing touches when he could. He continued now, carding his small fingers through the dark of Thorin’s pelt.

     His mate was as handsome in his wolf form as he was a dwarrow. His color was still dark, small signs of white age present, and although his build was purely muscle, he was soft to the touch and ever-warm. The fierce, breathtaking blue still remained in his eyes as well.

     Frankly Bilbo was very plain in comparison. His status as an omega was far more appealing than any aesthetic he possibly had and this was something he’d always known. His fur was the same dirty color as his hair and it seemed his belly was destined to retain its roundness no matter what form he wore.

     So he took the time to enjoy his fingers on Thorin’s wolfen body because he wasn’t sure when there would be another chance. It wasn’t uncommon for hobbits to sometimes miss a cycle though it seemed it was practically unheard of for dwarrows. It was usually an indication of malnourishment or stress and since Bilbo’s stomach had been recently re-rounded he had only the latter (and the loom of the dark forest behind their camp) to blame.

     Thorin hadn’t seemed to care that he hadn’t changed. In fact he seemed to be rather enjoying the pressure behind Bilbo’s ear rubs. He was currently leaning particularly hard into the scratching of the hobbit’s nails on his chin.

     “I don’t know if I should be offended that you’re only affectionate when you’re a big ball of fur,” Bilbo muttered, completely to himself. He obliged without thought when his large wolf turned onto his side to expose his chest and tuck-up to the caresses.

     He was absentmindedly watching the others (as best he could in the dark) as they wrestled or trotted a hefty distance from them. He attributed it to the king’s growling until the body under him shifted and his fingers were met with a wet and very hard length.

     Bilbo withdrew immediately, face oddly aflame (after all he’d seen and touched his lover before!). Nevertheless he turned from him and made to rise to his feet. But, of course, Thorin took the momentary advantage to wrap his front paws about the hobbit’s middle, shuffling to get his pelvis closer.

     “Thorin!” Bilbo all but screeched. “Get off!”

     He did, and the Halfling scrambled to his feet, but the excited red of the alpha’s need was still apparent versus the black of his fur.

     Bilbo tried to look intimidating by squaring his shoulders but Thorin remained poised in front of him, eyes intent. It was not a stare the omega could win, even as it had begun he’d felt the urge to lower his eyes but he didn’t because of how startled he’d been. He’d never heard of such an attraction between opposite forms, never mind a coupling between them!

     He wasn’t in heart nor particularly excited so he wasn’t quite sure what had garnered the reaction in the first place.

     Thorin took a step towards him and rose to his haunches. He rested his large paws on the narrow shoulders in front of him and Bilbo had to reposition himself to support the weight. Then the wolf began to lick the expanse of his face.

     “Yes, very romantic, this,” the hobbit groused but he turned his head and bared his neck when nudged to do so.

     The wet administrations resumed there until Thorin opened his maw to set a gentle pressure to the soft skin found with his teeth. He didn’t press and neither moved. In certain circumstances the action could be considered playful.

     Thorin wasn’t being playful nor was he offering an apology. He was rutting and in need of release. Part of the omega in him was immensely pleased that he hadn’t just wandered off to seek it elsewhere (and the non-animal part of his mind had to stubbornly interject that Thorin would never) but the part that was still capable of analytical thought was wary.

     He would have to reconcile the two quickly because his mate began to shake, almost desperately, against him. Thorin needed to mate and Bilbo knew he could refuse without driving a wedge between them. It was the long hours left before sunrise that gave him pause as they would prove to be almost excruciating for the king.

     “Alright,” he decided, rubbing his palms to his alpha’s shoulders turning the movement to small pushes to guide the muzzle full of sharp teeth from his skin.

     Thorin complied and then proceeded to circle the Halfling as he undressed, head low and tail stiff.

     Bilbo moved to spread Thorin’s coat over the uneven ground and sharp edges of tiny rocks, already pitying himself for the pain his knees, back, and quite possibly his elbows would be singing with in the morning.

     Once again paws wrapped around his middle though this time he was not caught off guard nor surprised when his lover’s length slicked over his inner thigh, seeking the entrance only omega males could have.

     Instead he twisted his torso about and promptly, firmly, and audibly smacked Thorin on his snout. “Get off; you’ll hurt me like that!”

     For his part the wolf listened and somehow managed to look chastised.

     Bilbo didn’t take his eyes from his alpha again while he sought out the vial of oil they had secreted away from their host days prior. An omega though he was without his own heat to engorge and slick his passage he had to rely on another tactic. Lying together in more compatible forms as when they were wolves or as dwarrow and hobbit were one thing (and even for the latter they had used a small amount of oil for safety) but he was almost certain they would need to find more the moment they got out of the forest after this rut.

     He began by situating himself on his back to make the act of preparation easier. His two oiled fingers went in easily and Bilbo’s eyes fluttered on the third, that welcome surge of blood to his groin enough to entice his free hand to wrap about his rapidly filling cock.

     He had only just added his fourth finger when Thorin’s long tongue was upon him. The hobbit jolted, mind stilled by both shock and embarrassment but neither was enough to quell the wanton heat that spread through his lower body and forced his back into an arch.

     He removed his hand from his length eagerly but Thorin only gave a lick or two before he was nosing Bilbo’s other hand away to taste at his opening.

     Bilbo threw both hands back to his erection, spreading his thighs as far as he could and forcing his back flat to give his mate more of himself. He rocked into the curl of the tongue, shuddered at the way it flattened to rub his outer folds before dipping in and then out.

     The hobbit had to forcibly push his lover’s head away to collect his breath and thoughts. It only took him a few moments but appeared to be long enough for his wolf who began to shift his weight impatiently between his paws.

     Before he could mount again Bilbo pressed more oil into himself. When he reached out to apply the lubrication to the king’s need he was surprised to find Thorin moving away on his own, as if coherently satisfied he’d been covered properly.

     Shaking now, though he couldn’t lie and claim it was all because of nerves, Bilbo rolled onto his side and drew his leg up to his chest, readying and displaying himself for the approval of his alpha.

     Thorin stepped over him, thrusting down blinding. The Halfling had to bite back a giggle before helping to lead him in and almost immediately he found himself closing his fist around its girth to disallow his mate from forcing the entirety of it in.

     It felt different to him now, of course, larger and slicker but not unbearable and certainly not unwelcome. His king allowed the guidance and by the moment flesh and fur met as they were completely joined Bilbo was all but grasping at any hair he could reach, attempting to splay himself open wider to get as much as he could, to increase their heated contact.

     Thorin thrust into him and the Halfling didn’t think he could have possibly kept quiet no matter what the stakes. He wasn’t exactly sure how he sounded because he felt as though he were suddenly blind and deaf compared to the overwhelming surge of pleasure spread throughout his body. The pressure inside him was thick and hotter than anything he’d ever felt and everything was wet, very wet, and he heatedly hoped that was because of his own excitement. His every nerve seemed to be focused only at the point of their union, fervent and deep inside.

     He barely registered anything else until on a sinking thrust the fur of Thorin’s belly caressed teasingly along his cock.

     Bilbo keened and pulled at what he could once more and he though, yes, yes, he understands because his mate continued to jerk down into him at the same angle. Thorin’s coherency had passed, he realized, as with each pound of their hips Bilbo’s passage was forced wider.

     He could feel the molten spurts inside, erratic and strong and then Thorin’s knot was there, pressing into his body and locking itself within his walls. The wolf continued to rock into him, testing the give of his opening and sending paralyzing pleasure through Bilbo’s entirety as his seed continued to spill.

     It was with that rocking and pulling and pushing on his most sensitive flesh, the slicking of his most reserved place, and the glide of hair on his jutting arousal that he cried out, arched, and came, his seed sticking to the fur above.

     He caught his breath first as he drifted back down from their high and only after did he recollect his heartbeat as well. His mate continued his movements within while panting above him. Bilbo rode out the soft motion with little over sensitized gasps and when it stopped and they remained still and locked together he let his eyes close.

     He half woke when he felt his mate slip free of his grasp but he did not attempt to move or open his eyes even as a gentle tongue cleaned him.

 

     Bilbo didn’t wake again until morning. He opened his eyes to find himself modestly covered (though from what he could see of his friends they’d either fallen asleep in their wolfen forms far from them or they had remained away for the sure-to-be-mortified hobbit’s feelings).

     The arm around him tightened and since he’d already declared himself awake by lifting his head he turned his chin up to meet the brightest smile Thorin may have ever given. Bilbo couldn’t stop himself from beaming in return nor could he feel ashamed by it; he had a feeling they’d need the memory when faced with the shadows to come.


End file.
